


Remember those walls I built?

by RasTroubleChild



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Demisexual Rey (Star Wars), F/M, Gym - but like zero exercise, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-10
Updated: 2018-06-10
Packaged: 2019-05-20 11:51:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14894120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RasTroubleChild/pseuds/RasTroubleChild
Summary: Ben Solo is trying to murder her, Rey is positive.orRey refuses to have a crush on her boss' son.





	Remember those walls I built?

**Author's Note:**

> I could probably justify this somehow but alas -  
> I worked at a health club. It was wild. Shit went down. Assume it was me staring daggers at people.  
> Aka  
> Abrasive Rey is my favourite.  
> Title from 'Halo' because in this house we respect our Queen, Beyonce. I dare you to replace halo with reylo and see what that does to you as a human.  
> Aka  
> My hand slipped... for a solid week.
> 
> NO REGRETS!

Rey is positive the dark, freakishly-tall guy at the turnstiles is trying to murder her by sheer force of his stare, maybe shoot lasers or squash her brain with the fervour of intent.

It's her first official shift as a receptionist at Resistance-Health-Clubs and what she believes to be the evening rush has just hit in full force. Finn is off dealing with a couple who's signed up and don't know their way around the facilities yet, and she knows for a fact that Poe is in a staff meeting with the sales team and General Manager Leia, during which he's undoubtedly dazzling everyone's socks off. Seriously, the man is a solar eclipse. His smile almost blinded her. They better have brought shades.

Rey's been doing alright, honestly, until now that is. She's handing out towels and charging for padlocks or energy drinks in record time. People were letting themselves through the beforementioned turnstiles independently by swiping their membership-cards... except for this asshole who's holding up the entire line of gym goers.

Rey somehow doesn't snap, even schools her features to something less hostile, though her hands are growing clammy with the effort. "Do you have your membership card, sir?"

"If I did," he enunciates his words perfectly, she notices. His voice is unexpectedly deep too, jarringly so. "Would I be waiting for you to let me through?"

 _Yes!_ Rey wants to bite back, _you look like the kind of self-righteous dick that would stall everything in the middle of rush hour._

There's a flicker of a smirk as if he's somehow practised in the art of mind-reading.

But remembering the few things Finn - bless his patience - has taught her so far, she goes over to the touch-screen. "Name, please?"

The guy has the decency to look disgruntled upon turning and having to push through the crowd that's gathered in the foyer like he's only just noticed. Thankfully, as soon as he's out the way, the other members carry on through, because-- _common sense._

"Uh," up close, he's even taller and broader. There's also a wicked-looking scar running down half his face, disappearing into the collar of his shirt without end in sight. _Ouch_. "Kylo Ren."

Resisting the urge to snort cause _is this guy for real?_ She types the name, and again when he corrects the spelling.

"Nope," she tells him unsurprised after the third try, raising a brow. "Still no members under that name."

Mr Ren is, at this point, looking at her like she's grown a second head. "You're new," he points out helpfully, and she holds her tongue on that one too.

Maybe she should try to enter Captain Obvious and see what the fuck happens.

"Yes..." she says slowly, tapping the badge on her shirt that reads, trainee. "I am."

Captain Ren or whatever, nods, seemingly turning his next words over in his mouth, then sighs, "try Ben Solo."

Although kicking someone out on her first shift is probably not ideal, gods know she's itching to. But, sure enough, there's a live membership, _Deluxe_ , because of course. She'd reason it might not be his if the guy in the picture wasn't so clearly _him_ in all his brooding glory.

"There it is!" She puts on her bestest polite teeth-grit; genuine smiles are currently out of order. "If you've lost your card we can make you a new one for $5."

He ignores this. "What's your name?" he asks and to her dismay and reasons unbeknownst, his smirk is most definitely back.

Rey blinks at how much it changes his features, toffee-brown eyes twinkling with mischief, full lips equally wicked now he's not pouting.

Well then.

"I'm Rey," she says at the same time as Finn ducks behind the reception desk and all but yells, "Mr Ren!" He punches the entrance button repeatedly and with too much force. The wide gate swings open without warning, nearly hitting the other man in the groin. Finn's grin looks painful, honestly. "Nice to see you. Do you need a towel? Drink? Padlock?"

"No," Ben, Mr Ren, Kylo? slings his bag over his shoulder, taps his fingertips on the counter with another cocky smile. "I've got what I need." And walks right on through.

*

"That was who?"

Now that classes are in full swing, it's quiet enough for Finn and Rey to take their first breather.

"Leia's son!" Finn whisper-shouts as if the walls have ears.

"I thought... what? What does he need two names for?" Rey is folding towels, stacking them on a pile next to the mini fridge when the realisation hits her. "Oh _bollox_ ," she groans, her stomach dropping. "Solo... That's Han's son?"

Finn nods solemnly.

Everyone heard of Han's accident a year ago, of course, it was all over town. The details, though, are a bit fuzzy. His son had been behind the wheel, rumour has it, he was above both alcohol and speed-limit following a family feud. And while they both made it out alive, Han's condition was so unstable he flatlined before being miraculously revived.

Upon taking in what was left of the mangled Falcon - to Unkar Plutt's garage of all places - he'd very reluctantly explained some of what had happened. While seeing to the repairs, Rey had appreciated Han's company, including the consistent grumbling about the damages to his beloved car. Chewie's lively presence too was welcome, the largest, shaggiest most faithful dog Rey'd ever laid eyes on. And after a warming-up period of a few weeks, Han actually proved to be a great storyteller. His travels as an antique-tradesman - or _smuggler_ , Rey's not easily fooled - served as great distraction from an otherwise stale routine.

She recalls vaguely what little he told her about his son, that he was a writer, but having seen Ben in the flesh, she's not entirely convinced her memory serves right. A lot has happened since.

Because it's also thanks to Han that Rey, as Brit who's visa heavily depended on Unkar's employment, could quit that junkyard. And, as far as escapes from manipulative pig's go, it went relatively smooth - okay, so, Chewie might have bitten him, just a little. Han's wife-ex-wife, Leia, who owns the chain of Resistance Health-Clubs, didn't only hire her for this position at headquarters but also lent Rey the support to change her immigration status to working-student while applying for a green card. Independent without always having to fight for her next meal. This level of security, she owes to Leia.

Their son has her eyes, Han's nose... How could Rey have missed that?

"He's doing physical rehab with Phasma since, _you know_. Six months and counting. I've never seen him smile or as much as talk to anyone else." Finn wiggles his brows suggestively, God he's a goof. Her heart swells. "But, uh, from what I hear his temper isn't new. First time here, he smashed a mirror in the lift in a fit of rage... honestly, I couldn't stand the guy. Apparently, he's working on it, but man his moods. I just throw freebies at him until he goes away."

Rey laughs, and Finn bumps her hip with his, these small shows of affection are still difficult for her to accept. Other people seem to be so tactile. Rey values her personal space. Luckily Finn took it in his stride from day one. "You're too brave for your own good."

"He seems... intense," Rey admits. Although she can't get herself to really worried. "He goes by Kylo Ren now?"

"It's his pen-name, yeah," he confirms, adding with a sheepish smile, "I should've warned you."

"Nah, I can handle him," she assures Finn, having read his expression.

Rey wonders when people will stop treating her like this. Like she's delicate and brittle. At twenty years old and not even the only orphan here, she doesn't feel like it's entirely fair. Especially, since Finn's aunt, Maz is an actual angel who offered Rey a place to stay for next to nothing as soon as Han had introduced them at the Tavern she runs. As his legal guardian, Maz came with her nephew Finn as a package deal and, in all honesty, Rey cannot believe her luck. It still feels as if at any moment someone might jump out at her to announce she'd been punked. That this is not her life.

Point is, kindness is a lot to take in, its unsettling. For the first time, she's got real support, food, a steady place to live, _things of her own_ , the opportunity to figure out where and _what_ she'd like to study. People care, enough to tip-toe around her feelings. It's amazing, of course, but equal parts nauseating.

Growing up, she didn't stop to ponder her inner workings as much as everyone expects. There was no time. She's kind of terrified what she might find.

"I know," Finn is saying. Rey almost forgot what they were talking about. He grins. "It's not you I worry about. Poor guy doesn't stand a chance!"

"Dickhead," she sing-songs and clocks him for good measure.

*

Rey learns by - mostly - unintentional eavesdropping on Han and Leia that while Ben's physical recovery is going well, he's still avoiding the family - Han specifically. And that his psychologist, Dr Snoke, who he's been in treatment with for anxiety-related condition since a few months prior to the accident, appears to be a rather shady character.

But it's Luke, Leia's twin brother and ever-chill herbalist, who, one sunny morning before yoga, fills her in on what happened the night of the accident. When he suggested Dr Snoke is manipulating him to take advantage of Kylo Ren's established name by having him compile projects published in questionable medical journals, Ben completely flipped, only confirming his uncle's suspicions.

It's none of her business, Rey tells herself firmly. The man is turning thirty.

They don't interact again over the next few weeks. Although Ben comes in every other day, he uses his membership card from then on. There can be miracles when you believe, indeed.

*

"It is you."

 _How eloquent,_ Rey wants to say before shutting that shit down.

Really, it ought to be a cosmic-joke that this _one time_ she's helping out at the in-house cafe, _he_ , Ben, plus a vaguely familiar looking red-head have just marched up to the bar. Otherwise, it's deadly quiet, only a few members lounging on the couches using the clubs free wifi.

"It is I," she confirms, dry as the desert, resisting the urge to curtsy while waking the register's screen. "What can I get you?"

"A green tea for myself," the ginger man says tersely. "Kylo...?"

Kylo/Ben is staring intently at the menu above her head, his fingers curling and uncurling, doing that thing with his jaw. "Sparkling water will do. Thanks."

When he does spare Ray a glance, she attempts a friendly nod. He looks wrecked, deep circles under his eyes, skin paler yet than she remembers. "Coming right up."

A minute later their order's arranged on a tray but before she fully reaches their table she hears Ben warning his companion, _Hux_ she thinks, to _drop it_.

No such luck.

"Rey, right?" the guy asks. "Tell me - how do you know Kylo's parents?"

Ben rakes a hand through his mess of dark hair. "Jesus."

Rey shrugs. "Han brought in the Falcon, I fixed it." She hears Ben wince as she sets down their drinks. "They're great people."

That's must've been precisely what Hux had been waiting for. "Leia always did like to adopt strays," he looks Rey up and down like she's a rat.

 _Ookay_ then. Fortunately, she is well-versed in bullshit.

She snorts, straightens. "Are you negging me?"

To his credit, Ben smoothes his reaction over with a cough.

"Pardon?" Hux splutters, easily diverted from his initial insult. "I'm-- _no_!"

"Mh. Looks like you are. But at my place of work," she deftly unfurls a bundle or cutlery on the table and grits out, "that would be _inappropriate_ , don't you think?" He jumps as she brings down the cake-fork, points first, so it sticks in his placemat.

They're made from cork, it's fine. Both men are gaping a little.

"Enjoy," she chirps, turning on her heal and flounces off.

*

That evening, Ben's deep voice penetrates her ears before she sees him. They're busy locking up, Leia is in the office down the hall, and Rey would know the sound of arguing anywhere no matter how muffled by walls.

Ben storms out first, red-faced and clearly beyond reasoning with. Leia calls after him. Rey pretends best she can not to notice.

It is, admittedly, a little startling then to find him a good twenty minutes later looming outside. Leia had told her glassy-eyed that she's okay to lock up alone. And god she hates Ben at that moment. Still, she isn't quite prepared to actually hear him speak.

"I apologise for Hux's behaviour," Ben's breath clouds in the chilly spring night. Rey bites the inside of her cheek, pulls her coat tighter. "It's his way of showing affection. But he's also not wrong," he adds this idly as if he's picking up a previous conversation, then it's as if a switch was flicked, and he's suddenly _cruel_. "My parents might be great with others. As a father, though, Han would've disappointed you."

And, well, Rey isn't entirely sure when she agreed to engage in the first place, but before she can stop herself, she's craning her neck to meet his eye.

"Fortunately you grew up to be so pleasant," she deadpans. Not Rey's finest moment, she'll admit, but it grates on her that this grown-ass-man is demanding more of something that she never had an ounce of. _He_ grates on her. "You have parents who give a damn about you. That love you. What more could you possibly want? I don't understand."

"Hm," he hums, quickly rising to her challenge, pushing off the wall and stepping into her space. Her flight or fight instinct must be broken, so despite the thrill zipping up her spine, she stays rooted to the spot. "I've heard about you. Their new orphan, right? You don't even remember your real parents. They left you-- and yet here you are, looking for them even in _mine_." The words are sharp, like acid on his tongue. "Admit it."

Rey shakes her head. There's something bitter clawing at her own throat, she blinks through the blur in her vision. Not because what he's saying is untrue but-- _how dare he._

"Yeah, you do," his eyes dance with satisfaction at detecting her weak spot so easily. "And all I want is to _forget_ it-- the past. Not be reminded of my shortcomings every fucking day," he grinds out.

It's absurd, how Rey gets precisely what he means. Every time she looks in the mirror she sees her parent's abandonment, their ultimate mistake, _feels_ their guilt; ever alone with it no matter where she goes. But what Han and Leia want for their son is different though. They want him to heal, be happy.

 _At what cost?_ A tiny voice whispers in the back of her mind.

It happens within the blink of an eye, a fracture of a moment it takes for Rey to realises how Ben lashing out is a signal-flare in a plight of limits reached. Perhaps he imagines that she, a stranger would be able to relate because she equals him in this _one thing_ \- this loneliness. It's a cry for help. Less lashing out than reaching.

"Ben," Rey breathes and she should learn to Let. It. Go. But something in her splinters anyway. He, too, visibly deflates. "You can fix whatever you think it is you broke. If you want, I can help you."

It's clearly not what he'd expected her to say. "It's too late." Absently, his hand comes up to touch the scar on his face, Rey's eyes follow. By now she knows it's from the accident.

"Bullshit," she says firmly. "Don't you think I know about self-blame? Luke told me what happened, it wasn't your fault."

Rey watches Ben's eyes cloud over at the mention of his uncle. "I was drunk."

"No you weren't!" she yells, words shattering whatever was left of her composure. "Han wasn't sober but you-- you only had one drink that night before the argument with Luke. _Ben_ ," she tries again when he looks away. "Your father doesn't have to forgive you-- he _has_. It's you who needs to forgive, yourself and your parents."

"Rey's right," comes Leia's voice from behind them and they startle apart. "Nobody blames you for what happened, Ben. We didn't notice how much pain you were in until it was too late and you turned to Snoke instead of us." She walks up to her son slowly, like he might run. Gods know Rey wants to. "Please give us a chance to earn your trust again. If it's time you need, take it. I'm so sorry."

"Mother," he chokes out before Leia tackles him and wraps him in a fierce hug, the older woman dwarfed by the hulking form of her weeping son.

Rey's not crying, _she is not_ , but this is definitely her cue to ditch. She feels like an intruder even when Leia mouths a _'thank you'_ to her before she escapes.

Well, shit.

*

The next time Rey sees Ben, a solid month later, he comes up to the desk, and she's already entering his details to record his attendance thinking he must've forgotten his card.

"No uh. I've got it," he waves it awkwardly at her and smiles. "I wanted to apologise. For my behaviour this time, you didn't deserve that."

It takes her a little off-guard, how easy he says this. He looks better, too, although she can't put her finger on it. His hair might be a bit shorter, but otherwise, he's still just as tall and broad as ever, with regal features and eyes like liquid sin-- _striking_.

What.

"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about," Rey manages primly, emphasising her British lilt, and he huffs. "Seriously. Now that you've made up with Han, he grumbles only eighty percent of the time. It's great."

That actually earns her a chuckle and her brain shortcircuits or something because, by the time she's caught up with it again, Ben is looking at her expectantly. _Oh shit._

"Sorry, what?"

"I said," he repeats carefully, there's a little-amused twitch under his left eye. It's mesmerizing. And damn it - _focus, Rey_ \- this man is the devil. "My father tells me you're deciding between college courses."

Rey nods because she _can_ do conversations. "It's a toss-up between mechanical engineering and architectural design. But it's-- I'm tempted by anything to do with history," she admits, excited despite herself.

Finn is also smiling at her proudly, which. Wait when did Finn even get back from his break?

If Ben notices her acting weird, he doesn't show it. "I majored in literature but also couldn't resist art-history. If you need help deciding, I can talk you through it. As former TA, I stayed in touch with most of the professors. And I could tip you off on who's classes to avoid."

Right. Ben Solo is ahead in the adulting thing. Graduated and beyond.

"We'll keep that in mind. Won't we?" Rey nudges Finn. He gives a few enthusiastic nods, his face is so achingly polite again she's scared it'll freeze that way. "Thank you."

*

"Kylo Ren wants to 'talk courses' with you!" Finn wheezes which she definitely deserves. Luckily he's mostly out of sight from members, squatting behind the counter to catch his breath. Rey somehow doesn't kick him, already plotting for when Poe next comes past their desk. Maybe she'll convince him to wink and watch Finn melt into a puddle. "I've not heard that one yet."

" _Haha_ ," Rey rolls her eyes like any self-respecting grown-up would, sticks out her tongue. "He's only offering because of what happened. Leia probably put him up to it. What else would we talk about anyway?"

"Beats me."

 _Yeah,_ she thinks, _me too._

*

As anticipated, life gets busier once Ray makes up her mind. Engineering is where her heart and talent lies, and she can't imagine ever getting sick of it.

The club becomes a second home. Rey is particularly fond of Rose who takes the time to chat about anything from social issues to unrelated gibberish between teaching her classes, and Artoo, the hilarious head-of-maintenance Luke has some kind of intense bond with. He wears _light-up sneakers_ , she respects that. And because she's practised pilates for a while by way of online tutorials and actually truly enjoys working out, she joins a few classes, relishing in the ache of gaining strength. When her first semester begins, she might miss her usual shifts.

But summer is decidedly not over yet and the hotter days brought with them a curious kind of torture in the form of an uncharacteristically casually dressed Ben Solo.

On blazing hot days, he struts in wearing shorts and loose tank tops. Well trained pecs and abs peeking out ever so often. To her defence, he's making her attempts to stop ogling impossible, seeming suddenly oddly invested in striking up conversations. It's no good for her coordination, honestly. Once she tripped over nothing.

But Rey also learns that Ben Solo is easier to talk to than one might expect. That, for all he's still dark and brooding, he's also sharp and witty, has a dry, self-deprecating sense of humour - like his father - and cares more than he lets on - like his mother. He's passionate about literature, fiction or non-fiction alike - a level five-thousand nerd - and hand-written introductions are included in his looping script to all Kylo Ren's published work - he does _calligraphy_ for gods' sake. She might have read bits here and there. His column in the local paper is absolutely not her favourite (it is).

Even his closest friend Hux, who turns out to be Phasma's partner, is actually one of those assholes with a lot of redeemable qualities.

But here's the thing: the first man Ray crushes on, can and will _not_ be her Boss' son. It's so cliche, she refuses.

There's also the fact that Ben is older, where her experience in anything akin to relationships is...well, limited. He's probably taken (she doesn't want to ask, okay) and, yup, last time she checked, related to almost all of the people dearest to her, and generally so out of reach he might as well be in a galaxy far away.

Summer, Rey decides, is the worse.

*

On a Tuesday evening after doing Amilyn's power-yoga class Rey decides to make use of the steam room and diffuse some of Luke's special blend of essential oils. The spa is deserted this late.

She adds a few drops to the outlet, unravels her towel, hanging it on the hooks outside, so she's left in a very modest black one-piece. The steam is thick and hot, the bench slippery with condensation pooling around her legs. Every inhale of the floral scent loosens her tired limbs, and she's about ready to drift off when the amber-tinted glass door swings open, dense clouds rolling out to reveal non-other than the man that haunts her dreams of late. Her stomach performs an annoying little flip. There's a towel wrapped around Ben's waist, leaving what's underneath a mystery.

At least his expression mirrors hers - utter surprise and the sheer strain it takes not to _let it show_. Because other people occupying the spa-facilities is _normal_ , isn't weird at all. Objectively speaking, she knows the Olympic length pool is just outside, knows where the control-panel for temperature and filter in a tiny chamber just beneath it are. But then the door closes, and they're cocooned in this ethereal space of hazy heat and muted dampness with no desk as a barrier and not much else to save Ray from feeling exposed. She has to pin her arms against her side to keep from crossing them.  
  
"You're late," she blurts in a bid to lift the tension. Ben settles on the bench opposite her. She winces. "I mean you usually come in earlier, you should've left by now, most people have."

Ben's raises a brow. "You avoid sharing experiences like this with your members?" he asks, his gaze respectfully doesn't drop anywhere below her chin. To say she appreciates that, is an understatement - Leia taught him well. "Can't imagine why." Rey huffs at that, relieved. "No, uh, Phasma's orders. I should be in here once a week."

She nods. "But you don't usually listen."

"Shocking, I know." He closes his eyes, inhales. "Luke's magic oils."

It's not a question, so she hums, glad he doesn't witness her traitorous eyes stray and linger inappropriately on the - positively glistening - planes of his chest, the tapering scar there marring his pale skin - a fracture in a slab of marble.

What an image to be burned into her brain.

She clears her throat. "He senses too much tension or something." Ben's eyes snap open, dark and penetrating even through the fuzzy air. Good thing he can't tell if she's blushing. "And _I'm_ always open to sage advice."

There's a brief flicker of worry about teasing him - they're not friends - before he chuckles, rich and deep and-- bewildered, so resounding in the enclosed space it seems to startle even him. A pity, she thinks, as her lips quirk too, that he doesn't laugh more often.

"Better late than never," he's saying before drawing another breath, his eyelids drooping again. "I'm here now."

Sinking back herself, she sighs, eyes fluttering shut. "I guess you are."

*

After that fateful evening, Rey and Ben do, against all odds, become something like friends.

While they see each other less once her courses start, Ben compensates by supplying Rey with much-needed caffeine on early weekend shifts - she doesn't over-analyse that his sessions coincide with her new schedule, that, or the stupid spike in her pulse - and, as exams roll around, he presents her with a _laminated_ spreadsheet to help divide her workload most efficiently.

On Friday nights, when Ben knows (because she mentioned it) that Finn and Rey would be stress-eating fries with gravy at Maz's Tavern, he conveniently shows up with Phasma and Hux. Finn warms up to Ben because he's a sucker for adopting people, especially ones that have been through a mill - though, he still stubbornly calls him Kylo.

Eventually, Poe joins the group with his orange corgi Beebee, who chases a considerably larger Chewie around the table until their leashes get entangled when Han's around, too. On those nights, Leia and Rose are often there, and even Luke shows his face from time to time. Ben never brings anyone else _like that_ though.

It can't mean anything. Any addition to this odd ragtag bunch would be overwhelming, is all. Point is, they're friends now.

*

Which is how Rey finds herself, one stormy November evening, in the fancy lobby of Ben's apartment building, carefully carrying a huge bowl of homemade potato-salad for the birthday-dinner Leia had somehow convinced him to throw. Her palms might be clammy.

Before nerves have a chance to take root, she overhears commotion from the desk up ahead. The guy stationed there is reasoning with a fragile-looking elder, and as Rey draws near, she makes out some of what the senile man is harping on about.

"Kylo Ren is my patient," he croaks. "I must see him this instance!"

Up close it becomes apparent just _how_ old and - pardon her - _shrivelled_ the man is. Beady, cloudy eyes, a sunken face, mouth grey and kind of crusty in the corners. _Creepy_ , she thinks, the word is creepy.

"Unfortunately, he doesn't accept your visit at this moment. I'm going to have to ask you to leave, Dr Snoke."

 _Snoke_.

Fuck it. Rey sidles up to him, lowering the salad-bowl onto the counter with a resounding plonk. As predicted, his head swivels around to direct the glare at her.

"Excuse me," she says brightly to the attendant, ignoring how the hair in the nape of her neck stand on end. "I'm here to see _Ben Solo_."

The guy - Edward, his posh, golden name-tag reads - nods at her, grateful for the interruption, asks her name and picks up the phone to announce her presence upstairs.

" _Rey_ ," Snoke suddenly sneers from next to her. "I've heard quite a lot about you."

What Ben could possibly have told him, hardly seems as relevant as the fact that he's _doesn't_ work for Dr Snoke anymore since shortly after making up with his family, that he switched psychologists. That's important, so--

"Really?" she drawls, deliberately snooty, shrugs. "Couldn't say the same."

"But from how Kylo described you," he goes on as if she hadn't spoken. "I imagined you prettier, older perhaps to have such influence on him; you're but a child."

It stings, she'll admit.

Absently, she hears Edward telling the doctor to leave or get removed by security, but she's already spinning around, baring her teeth even as some detached part of her knows it's a mistake to engage.

"That's where you underestimate Ben, he doesn't need anyone to corrupt him into making the right choices."

Snoke is _laughing_ now, she realises through the fog of anger, the toxic piece of shit is getting off on her reaction.

The lift dings. Doors slide open. Ben steps out looking fucking _thunderous_. Edward must've told him about the predicament downstairs, and they all played right into Snoke's trap.

"Get away from her."

"Kylo, my boy," Snoke crows triumphantly, Ben visibly flinches at hearing the man's voice, his hands squeezing into fists like it's a physical blow. Rey's insides twist. "How else would I get you downstairs to wish you a happy birthday if not for the rescue of young Rey here?"

"We're not doing this anymore. I told you I'm done. You--" Ben draws a deep breath. "I won't have you harassing my guests."

Once again, Snoke laughs. "Your _guests_!" he claps once. "Have you forgotten when no one cared for your well-being but I? You cannot fool me, boy. I know your mind. It's something else that's tempted you to stray."

At this, Ben literally growls, low and scary, jaw clenched teeth bared, his eyes bottomless pits of fury and Rey witnesses this side of him for the first time. She's not afraid, but--

"Enough!" she intervenes, despite what she'd said not two minutes ago, wedges herself between them before Ben acts on an impulse he'll regret.

"Ben, enough," Rey says more gentle for his ears alone, lays her hand on his forearm, he's shaking and, she swears, his skin is on fire beneath her fingertips. "I'd understand if you wanted to punch him, trust me, _I_ want to. But-- look at him, he'd fold like a twig. Honestly, he's not worth it."

Ben blinks at her, just her, momentarily vulnerable and open and her heart gives that squeeze she's come to recognize is reserved for only him; for fleeting moments when their eyes catch across a table or their skin brushes in passing.

"I know," he nods, slowly drags his gaze from hers and glances over her head. "Please have Dr Snoke removed from the premises. Permanently."

"Already on it," Edward says, his walky-talky crackling to live.

Snoke gasps and only continues to gape like a fish as if he genuinely can't make sense of what he's witnessing. Ben tracks Rey to retrieve the salad from the desk she's nearly forgotten about.

She offers the bowl to him. "Happy Birthday."

Ben's real gift is in her pocket - a metallic red fountain pen, emblazoned with his initials - but he huffs ruefully, something akin to amusement replacing the tension in his features.

"You shouldn't have."

Rey counts it as a win.

"You-- you fools! You can't-- no one walks away from me!" Snoke blusters distantly. "Kylo Ren, I'm not done talking--"

His words follow them into the lift, but with Ben's hand warm and massive on her lower back, she thinks that neither of them cares enough to pay it any mind.

 

"What the hell took you two so long?" Han asks, opening the door to Ben's apartment.

"Uhm," Rey mumbles intelligently, letting him usher her inside.

"Took out the garbage," says Ben, flashing her a smile, soft and private and gods help her, fond. "We should be all set now."

If the apartment weren't so Ben, one might suspect a dragon residing here with the _insane_ amount books he's hoarding. Each wall of the spacious lounge has built-in shelves stacked with volume upon volume.

But the living-room currently also holds all of their friends, their family.

Maz is fretting over some finger-food arrangement on the adjacent breakfast bar. On the couch, Finn is shit-talking Phasma, kicking her ass at what looks like a game of Mortal-Combat, Hux is, for some reason, cheering _him_ on from the recliner. Amilyn and Poe are providing running commentary while simultaneously lecturing Rose on the _importance of strategy damn it._ Leia swipes Poe over the head for cursing to only then, when Chewie howls at Beebee, swear herself enough to make any sailor blush. Luke, in the midsts of it, is perched cross-legged and eyes closed in the centre of the fucking coffee table.

"Yeah," she agrees, nodding at both men; _father and son_. Leia catches her eye. "I think we've got everything we need."

*

"Wot?"

"That is not how I sound."

Finn grins. "Is it _not_?"

"You're the worse," Rey grumbles into her champagne. "I don't know why we're friends."

"Aw, peanut. You love me. That's why."

"Finn!" Poe yells from somewhere down the entrance looking nothing short of dashing in a navy suit.

They're at the Club's holiday function and, apparently, Leia has a talent for throwing lavish parties which other Resistance-Health-Club staff from branches far and wide are eager to attend. The decor is bright yet dark, tasteful while nauseating, and Rey is wearing a nude, knee-length flowy dress because it compliments her skin tone or whatever, her hair is tumbling down, tickling her shoulders, and she feels guilty but she kind of wants to die. On second thought, those heels are already doing a fantastic job of killing her slowly, damn it, Rose.

But at Finn's expression, Rey has to smile, he looks at Poe like he's hung the moon; like maybe he's not real. "Go, I'll be fine."

He pecks her cheek, and then he's gone. Rey can't be even a little mad.

Or, that is, _until_ she's cornered by a guy - whose name she didn't quite catch by could be _Biggs_ \- sporting an impressively thick moustache, suspiciously darker in pigment than the greying hair on his head. Her polite endurance for nods and smiles is waning, her cherry-red seven-hour lipstick must have worn away from rolling her lips and mhh'ing at semi-appropriate intervals along to stories of his youth - of _racing_ and how he _definitely, no really he did beat the Falcon's record_.

As if summoned, she spots Han entering the building. He's wearing a tux, climbing the stairs alongside Ben who is in all black, not much different from the suit he wore when they first met. But now, he's relaxed, talking animatedly to his father and, well-- her shoes must be what's compromising her balance cause she swoons a little bit.

She didn't expect him to be here.

Ben looks up, her heart does that ridiculous thing and... then he's intercepted by his mother, dragging him off to greet yet another group of people Rey doesn't recognise.

She releases a breath that had been lodged in her throat. From the way Han weaves his way over when he catches sight of her, whatever her face is doing, it can't be good.

"Hey, kid, you look gorgeous!" Han pointedly exaggerates the word _kid_ , turning to the man who's been chewing her ear off what felt like an eternity, clapping him on the back with enough force he staggers forward. "Biggs! Fancy seeing you, you old bastard."

While Biggs rights himself, Han mumbles, "run," at her from the corner of his mouth.

With a grateful smile, she does, ignoring the ache in her feet, and making a beeline for the reception where she snatches her coat, slipping out around the corner to the lift lest anyone strikes up a conversation. She's had her fill for now.

Typing the enabling code for the upper floors, she selects the control centre. The room is plunged in darkness, has a wide array of tiny lights winking on a switchboard, and dials next to a door at the back that leads to the roof. Out there, housing the humming generators, the terrace is small, wooden planks bridging certain sections; not meant for display but rusticly pretty nonetheless.

It's cold out, the breeze unkind but Rey, slightly buzzed from two glasses of champagne, steps up to the edge, takes stock of her emotions. She thinks of Finn, how glad she is for her friend. Soft music drifts up from inside, the tinkling sound of people laughing in the car-park below reaches her ears, and everything is good, more than she could ever have hoped for. And still, down there or up here, she feels so--

There's the click of the door. She doesn't turn to know it's him.

"Isn't there supposed to be a glass-slipper involved?" Ben's deep voice echoes from behind her, easily cutting through the buzzing machines and whistling wind. "Dramatic exit and all that."

Rey turns slowly. "I bet glass would be more comfortable," she quips, though her heart hammers a tattoo against her ribcage. " _These_ fucking things, I'm going to burn in a sacrifice."

There is that look again, the one he adopts for when she suffers a particularly terrible bout of verbal diarrhoea, it's fond, exasperated and... _something else._

Drawing closer, he scans her from head to toe, sceptically, as if checking for weapons or missing limbs, apparently carefully weighing his next words.

"You hair, it's down... I mean, you brush up nicely," he settles on at last, and though Rey received plenty of compliments earlier - more eloquent ones - _this_ is the one making her cheeks heat.

"Thanks. I should. Took me ages getting ready. I didn't expect so many people to show," she babbles, spiralling into nervous territory. "You followed me?"

"It wasn't hard to get the code out of Artoo. Honestly, I don't know why I was invited. I can't actually see anyone I'd want to talk to," he shrugs, his eyes sweeping the horizon over her shoulders where she knows the city lights are twinkling in the distance, then they return to hers, dark and a little wide with... revelation. "Just you."

It should be embarrassing, that tiny hitch in her breath, but she can't bring herself to feel it, not when there's still music playing, and suddenly he's offering his hand and,

"Dance with me," Ben says, and well, hey _, that's not a question_ until he adds. "Please."

A few seconds tick by of Rey eyeing his outstretched arm, failing to process this particular turn of events. The motion, though, of lifting her own to accept, is oddly intuitive.

Rey _trusts_ Ben, she realises with a start, has no reason to be skittish.

As their palms connect, the thrill of touching with intent is astonishing. There's a curious energy surrounding them as he guides her closer, hand on her waist to assume the proper position.

That she can't dance, not like this, lies on the tip of her tongue, but such worry diminishes as they start to sway. She focuses on her fingers, delicately resting on Ben's shoulder. In this proximity, his smell - sandalwood, paper, bonfire and something Ben-- _dragon_ , a distant part of her supplies - swamps her mind. Suddenly the dress is too tight, her breathing too shallow. He might be in a similar predicament because as his hand snakes under her coat to her lower back, bringing them yet closer and she rests her cheek against his chest their heart-beat thunders in sync.

"Rey," he whispers. She doesn't look, or she may shatter. "Why are you up here?"

She swallows, fixates on a point at his collar. "I don't know why, just-- everyone's so _great_ , and I'm-I shouldn't but... I've never felt so alone," she confesses, ashamed.

"You're not alone."

At that, Rey forces her chin up. Something that's laid dormant inside her for so long stirring as she comprehends the torn look in his eyes. The arm around her waist flexes, his hand squeezing hers.

She licks her lips. "Neither are you."

Ben is tracking the words forming on Rey's lips. Her breath catches and--

"Rey?!" Luke bursts through the door. It's as effective as a thunderclap. They jump apart. " _Ben_? Ben!" he barrels on. "Come on inside, kids, it's freezing up here. What are you doing, Rey, missing the party? Leia is pestering everyone to find you."

At this point, Ben looks as dazed as Rey must.

"I found her first," he points out with a wave in her direction.

The ride to the lobby is... interesting. Luke is telling her something about medicinal  _mushroom_ brownies while Ben keeps as much distance between him and Rey as humanly possible, his hands shoved into his pockets. As soon as the doors slide open, he nods farewell in their general direction and hightails it down the hall until she loses sight of him. Talk about a Cinderella-worthy exit.

Sobering, Rey goes to find Leia.

Because pursuing this _thing_  between them is a _terrible_ idea. Rey can list a million and one reasons why. And _yet_ \--

as the evening wears on, something is off-centre, like the world has tilted on its axis and she can't quite regain balance.

Leia and Han keep her company, confirming that Ben had soon made his excuse to leave, until they have to attend to other guests, and at some point, Poe and Finn drag her to the dance-floor, spinning and twirling her around, and she's laughing dammit, and she's happy, but her heart - it doesn't skip for anyone.

No one else makes her skin prickle with awareness, makes her feel like a focal point. Watching - until it digs into her flesh and rattles her bones - and she _allows_ it; bares parts of her freely, wondering what might be salvageable beneath all that rubble.

 

So Rey leaves. Walks a block to hail a cab because there's no time for Uber. On her way, she drops Finn a text lest they send out another search party.

By the time she's at Ben's apartment, she's bizarrely out of breath.

"Rey," he rumbles, surprised to find her there.

He answered the door only wearing sweatpants - no shirt. Rey's mouth goes dry, she should've let Edward call ahead.

"You left," she accuses, all jokes of glass slippers forgotten and he lets her through without a word. She's _furious_ suddenly, confused and mad at him for asking her to dance on moonlit terraces, telling her she wasn't alone and then _leaving_ anyway.

The door snaps shut behind her, Rey kicks off her shoes, not caring where they land.

"You..." she rounds on Ben, points her finger at his chest because _how dare he._  This time, it's her lashing out while he watches wearily. It's so damn frustrating. Needing, _craving_ a reaction, an answer, a fucking smoke signal would do, she steps into his space, feels his body heat and shivers. "You're a coward."

But Ben doesn't deny it, doesn't yell or makes any attempts to explain. He merely nods, slowly stalking that bit closer while his gaze sears into her. All the air seems to drain from the room, and Rey's stomach swoops wildly as his hand weaves into her hair, his thumb lightly brushing the apple of her cheek. His palm is so so warm and huge, and she melts into the touch by no mind of her own.

He leans down gradually as if expecting her to vanish, she feels his breath tickle her skin and, a beat later, their lips finally brush. His are _soft_ , hesitant to press further and the kiss stays so unexpectedly delicate, her heart gives a painful squeeze. It tastes like an apology, a silent plea.

Still, Ben rests his forehead against hers. "This is-- Sorry. I shouldn't have done that," he says remorseful, jaw working to reel in restraint. Rey knows he's talking about the kiss but it's at total odds with how he's reaching for her hand. "Earlier, once it occurred to me, that the first person I look for _every_ time is _you_ , I couldn't stop knowing it. And it spooked me," he tells her, eyes imploring. "Rey, I'm no good. Aim for someone not emotionally stunted."

Rey's voice wobbles, "you can't tell me what to do."

It's all she _can_ do really, to slide her hands up his chest, rise to her tip-toes as if pulled by an invisible string and-- the second kiss is decidedly _not_ as chaste.

Ben is no longer _tame_. He crowds her a few steps back against the wall, the hand buried in her hair tugging at the roots, tilting her head just so, and--

 _Oh_. Rey's lips part on a gasp, granting his tongue in to explore.

All her senses narrow down to _Ben_ , he fills her vision, her lungs, enveloping her body with own. His free hand wanders from her waist to her ribcage, and it's like being set on _fire_ where his fingers dance over her, pulling fabric aside to gain more access. Rey breaks the kiss, catching her breath and he instantly latches on to her neck, trails his lips down to the swell of her breasts.

"Ben", she pants because she _wants_ him to know.

But his name comes out like a prayer, and then the straps of her dress are sliding off her arms, and his mouth is on her nipple, she scrapes her fingers through his hair, and it's so _incredibly_ soft and _fuck_ what was it even she was trying to say?

She's lifted suddenly, clear off the ground by strong hands on the back of her thighs. Her dress rides up until its pooled around her waist and her legs are locked around Ben, and she's clinging on to his broad shoulders for dear life as their lips connect once more. He grinds against her and, holy shit now _everything_ is bursting into flames, she's so embarrassingly wet already, she wants--

 _Oh,_ right.

" _Ben_ ," she tries again, only inches from his lips. Something in her voice must tip him off because he does look then. His pupils are blown wide, their breath is mingling, chests heaving in sync. "I've never done this. I want to," she adds hastily when his gaze shutters with doubt. It has the desired effect, his grip on her firmer. She traces her fingertips along his scar, finds that she isn't afraid. "Please," she whispers, and Ben drops his head against her temple.

"You're so fucking stubborn, Rey," he sighs hotly into her ear, wandering hands belying any hesitance. She turns her head to nip at his jaw, and he captures her lips in another toe-curling kiss, dragging her lower lip between his teeth. His fingers toy with the seam of her panties before sliding underneath the lace, knuckles barely ghosting over where she wants him. Finding how wet she is, he groans, " _tell_ me what you want."

Instead of answering right away, Rey rolls her hips experimentally, hisses at the contact. Ben's other hand seems content playing with her breast, just lightly thumbing at her nipple as if learning what she likes. She _wants_ more, _everything_ , she thinks, so tells him, "You. I want you."

There is a blip in time where Rey has the presence of mind to take stock of their position; ultimately approves that this is the wall in Ben's hallway that she's pinned to. It seems a lot like them, to kindle an inferno the second they collide.

But then he's kissing her and kissing her, hot and heavy, teeth scraping, nails digging, their body's flush; pushing, pulling. Both losing grip a little. Ray vaguely notes him fumbling between them; with his waistband first, then she hears a snap and tear before the flimsy fabric of her panties falls away. She's so lost, she whines as he props her up higher, just out of reach of his lips until--

 _Oh_. Ben is lining up with her entrance.

"Open your eyes." He's searching for permission, for doubt, as if there really were a chance she doesn't want this, that she might not want him.

Rey nods her consent. Her voice cannot be trusted.

He starts slowly, entering her by gradually lowering Rey's weight onto him, watching for any sign of discomfort. It's new, the stretch, the unfamiliar pressure inside her and she can't stop making tiny kitten noises at the sensation, at one stage has to bite back a whimper.

Ben stops, holds her there. "I've got you."

He kisses her, so deep and dirty, any thoughts of pain flee her mind until she bares down the rest of the way herself.

They pause to let her adjust, breathing each other's air. Rey hears the tremor in his breath, his palms shake slightly with the effort of keeping still, and - _if that isn't the hottest thing imaginable_ \- her legs beckon him closer, signalling him to move.

He complies, and their moans ring in unison. Soon the stretch is chased by blinding pleasure. Ben's arm is banded around her lower back to keep her from hitting the wall, and soon she's arching to meet his thrusts and--

_Fuck, she's already so close._

Rey must have said that bit out loud because,

"Fuck," Ben, swears under his breath, hips rolling deeper with purpose. She claws at his bicep as one large hand comes up under her jaw, thumb raising her chin and he murmurs into her lips, "come for me, Rey."

A beat and she's crying out, falling, shattering at his command, stomach clenching and thighs trembling. By the time Rey comes to, Ben is carrying her to the bedroom, depositing her on the bed to peel off her dress and discard of his pants. Being on display, despite what they are in the middle of, makes her self-conscious, fleetingly until he's safely blanketing her body with his much larger one.

Rey welcomes him in the cradle of her thighs. His hand skims up her calf, bending her knee to tuck it under his armpit and she's so ready for it, he slides back in with ease.

She gasps, marvelling at the change, in pace, proximity, moving together while trading greedy kisses. At this angle, she can explore the planes of his chest better, the muscles in his back, feel them twitch under her fingertips, the sheen of sweat covering them. Ben's face is shrouded in shadows, but his eyes don't leave hers. She brushes damp strands of hair from his forehead, one finger drawn to where the scar splits his brow, and she thinks that this man might break her heart, that it's worth it if only for this moment.

The shiver that wrecks through her seems to only spur him on.

He catches her hands, pinning them beside her head to entwine their fingers. His thrusts pick up speed, and he sucks hard at the skin near her collarbone. "Mine," Ben utters in his extraordinary timbre, but it's _not_ possessive, it sounds a lot like awe.

The responding moan ripping from Rey's throat is nothing short of obscene. " _Yours_ ," she chokes out, and it sounds a lot like a confession.

His rhythm falters then, he curses, movements becoming frantic and she can tell he's getting close, can feel it build inside herself again.

He must sense it, because. "Come on," he coaxes, voice rumbling through both their chests, " _together_."

And a few snaps of hips later, Rey tumbles over the edge, Ben's name on her lips, a heel digging into his lower back, taking him with her as he bites down on her shoulder.

Ben's elbows buckle from being braced above her, and he slumps, the weight of him is so comforting, even when he makes to roll off, Rey clings on, shaking her head no. He chuckles disbelieving, but she bathes in the afterglow, walking her digits up his spine.

Eventually, though, their skin cools too much, and he pulls away. She cringes at the loss. After disappearing into the bathroom, he returns with a small towel. At first, she frowns in confusion as he rearranges her, then watches him gingerly clean between her legs. Never having given this part much thought, she suddenly has to blink back tears, the gesture absurdly intimate, considering.

Ben settles into bed next to her, wordlessly, tugging the blanket over them both. They reflect the others position, hands almost touching but not quite, faces inches apart.

 _What happens now?_ her sleepy conscience whispers as they study one another. Will she tell the others, Finn - oh gods _Han_ and _Leia_? What does this even mean? They didn't actually say--

Once again reading her too well, Ben grasps Rey's hand to soothe her. "Don't be afraid," he tells her lowly, draws her in so she's cradled against his chest, her head tugged under his chin. "I feel it too."

Those words are the last thing Rey catches before drifting off, sinking into Ben and the warm protective shield he provides.

*

Only hours later, in the purple tide of dusk, Rey is roused to Ben breathing raggedly in his sleep. His heart is thundering against her _back_ , arm locked rigidly around her middle.

But she realises that what has woken her, is _feeling_ his skin, how it erupts in a near-violent wave of goosebumps. He's shaking, too, clearly, in the midst of an awful dream - haunted by memories or nightmare, she doesn't know. It happens again and again, tiny hairs and gooseflesh rippling against every point they touch.

Trying her best not to jar him, Rey starts drawing small patterns over Ben's coiled knuckles, smoothing up the muscles in his arm to compel him from his sleep with care. Soon, he stirs awake behind her, tension gradually relaxing into even breaths, and steady pulse. He buries his face in her hair, eventually stilling her hand to slot their fingers together on her stomach, squeezing it in a silent expression of gratitude.

And, well, now that Ben's distress has ebbed, Rey becomes consciously aware that she's _naked_ , so is he, the sweet ache between her legs a reminder of what they did. Arching her back the first time is entirely reflexive. When he sucks in a sharp breath, though, it's a wicked thrill. Her lips quirk. She does it again.

Ben groans into her neck, shifting his palm to prevent her from moving. But she detects the mirth in his voice, feels him smile against her skin. " _Rey_ ," he warns.

Another defiant roll of hips, and it's Rey's turn to shudder. Ben plays dirtier. He retaliates by groping her breast with one, while spreading her thigh with his other hand, winding her up until she's a writhing mess.

And she loves how this feels, Ben taking her this way, languidly, her leg draped over him, in a foggy, hot early morning haze of hushed moans, hoovering mouths and capable hands toppling her over the edge.

When they wake up next, around mid-morning, Rey drags Ben into the shower, braces her palms against the wall as he thrusts into her. And finally, his control slips by a fraction, telling her how long he's wanted to do this, how tight she is around him. She loves the press of his fingers on her hip-bones, the cool tiles against her cheek, his breath hot on her neck as he muffles his release there. They wash each other after, getting distracted fooling around, unable to keep their hand to themselves until the water runs cold with shampoo still in their hair. And she loves that too.

Rey borrows Ben's clothes while he makes breakfast. He shoos her off his counter which of course she doesn't listen to, reasoning that he needs to _loosen_ the fuck up. Then he pinches her calf, and she kicks out, and somehow they manage to spill coffee-grounds all over the kitchen floor, and he glares with precisely _zero_ heat, but Rey relents that, hey, perhaps he has a point and using the bar-stools might have its benefits. Then, while brushing it up and catching Ben peek down her shirt, Rey winks at him, and the dish-towel wacks her in the face.

Yes, they're imperfect, held together by broken pieces, but they part with lingering kisses and unspoken promises, plans of making time for each other during the week ahead. For them, it's enough.

*

When she gets home wearing last nights rumpled dress and Ben's way too big hoody, hair a rat's nest on her head, Finn is waiting for her, looking utterly unimpressed. And, _oh no_ , he's going to make her explain, won't he? But the concern is swiftly replaced with puzzlement when, without warning, his facade cracks, and he resolves into a fit of laughter.

"Oh, peanut, your face! You thought we didn't know?" he teases. " _Come on_ , you're so obvious they could see you make heart-eyes at each other all the way from outer space! I'm glad you got your shit together. I owe Leia twenty bucks."

" _Wot_?" Rey's accent rings clear with shock, and he dares to grin. "You made a bet with his _mom_?"

"Hey! Not just me." Finn raises his hands in surrender. "Everyone. Han 'had a feeling about it' or some cryptic shit, but the bet was _Leia's_ idea. Like I said, we all have eyes. It had to be only a matter of time until one of you caved..." He trails off, squints at her sparkly dress, the heels she's carrying, his mouth slack with some revelation. "Damn it! Leia rigged the game!"

Though she really should, Rey can't even pretend to be surprised.

*

As far as priorities go, between studying, working, making time for friends and Ben - she has a _boyfriend_ now - Rey sometimes just forgets to come up for air. In a good way. She doesn't have to perpetually pinch herself anymore.

At the beginning of their new semester, Rey and Finn move closer to campus. To continue their Friday tradition, everyone agrees to weekly game-nights at their new apartment, trying one of Luke's exotic board-games at a time. Maz comes around to the idea only because they allow her to play hostess - she did bribe them with chips and gravy. Admittedly, Hux's mojito's are legendary, and he makes a point of being affronted by everyone acting so surprised, while Phasma insists on bringing their car racing simulator along to challenge Ben's long-standing high-score.

On one of those nights, Poe finally, finally, fashions up the courage to ask Finn out, the whole affair is uncharacteristically bashful and sweet, followed by a collective breath of relief - the sexual tension had been stifling. Finn starts to wear Poe's leather-jacket the morning after their first date, flipping Rey off when she cat-calls him.

Rose takes on the responsibility of scheduling the group's other social activities - outings or activism - to, in her words, also get some 'normal' human interaction. No one argues her point.

They receive honest to gods greeting-cards from Amilyn's globe-trip. Rey's favourite is the one picturing a mountaintop - hiking boots and cropped denim, purple wisps of hair sticking every each way, while the woman herself proudly poses in front of the valley she's just conquered, looking for all the world like she belongs.

Han and Leia renew their vows in spring, asking Rey to be their flower girl. She does not cry _at all,_ _okay_ , when she watches Ben take on the role of best man. The ceremony is private and beautiful, and there are fairy lights, and--

 _That's_ when Rey pinches herself again. Because surely feeling this content, this full must mean her heart is limitless.

And so it isn't until some time later when they're in the middle of a heated argument, and Ben yells, _'I love you,'_ for the first time, that Rey realises how the ability to contain it all originates from having met her match already. For Ben, her heart still floods, fractures, overflows and there isn't much talking after.

  
*

Sometime in her second year at the club, Rey is promoted to duty manager complete with walkie-talkie authority, the glitz of a first-aid course and poolside response certificate.

The new receptionist radio's for help on his first day because apparently someone is holding up the line. Rey laughs and laughs and laughs at finding the large, dark and devilishly disgruntled man there.

"I forgot the damn card," Ben complains, unable to reign in the quirk of his lips, next words deliberately reminiscent of ones he first spoke to her. "But I suppose, waiting for you to let me in, isn't all bad."

"No," she says, checking if they have an audience before stealing a quick kiss. "Totally worth it."

 

The rest, well, they can figure it out.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Part of me hopes no one likes this, and I can get these two assholes out of my system. But like - validate me!


End file.
